


Roses and Robbery

by la_vie_boheme



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, also there may be some violence, anyways keith and Lance are partners in crime yeehaw, based slightly off of Bonnie and Clyde, but not graphic ofc, some of the others may show up too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 03:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14393427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_vie_boheme/pseuds/la_vie_boheme
Summary: Lance had always dreamt of leaving his boring, small town and becoming a famous actor. Hollywood was his calling, and he couldn’t imagine a life without it. He fantasized about fame, attention, and thrill.However, perhaps these cravings could be fulfilled with the help of a mysterious bad boy named Keith— who was more interested in robbing banks than movies.





	Roses and Robbery

Lance sighed quietly, daring to let his eyes drift over to the too-loud ticking clock on the wall of the diner he worked at. He was eager to finish his shift and make his way home. Not only has he wiped down this same counter about eight times in the past ten minutes, but he was working on a new act that he wanted to rehearse. 

Lance had always dreamed of being a famous actor, and was itching to get away from the drab Texan town that he was forced to call home. Hollywood was calling to him every waking moment of his life, and always ebbed into his dreams while he was asleep. The thought of being both rich and famous tempted him, and he could get drunk on that thought alone. He knew he wasn’t born to rot away in a small town and craved the attention that he wasn’t currently able to get. 

However, Lance knew that once he made it to California, his face would be posted in front of movie theaters all across the country, and he would be featured in all the papers and magazines. He’d be more about than James Cagney or Clara Bow. The comforting thought lulled him into a daydream about fame and champagne, about starring in a talkie, about dancing with pretty girls and boys. Deep down, he really was insecure of himself, and was unsure if he really was as talented as he convinced himself, but he clearly kept these unpleasant thoughts out of his perfect fantasies. 

“McClain, I’m closing up shop. You’re free to go,” His boss stated, snapping Lance out of his daydream. “Make sure you start to actually work instead of loafin’ about and git some work done next time.” 

Lance nodded quickly in reply before gathering his belongings and scurrying out of the door. He went to count his tips for the day, only to have his irrational hopes crushed once he saw that he only made a measly three dollars. It wasn’t too bad— actually, it was one of greatest profits he made in the entire week. After the stock market crash, it was difficult to even make a dollar. Disappointed, he turned his attention to his near-worthless motorbike; which, of course, decided not to start. To be fair, the machine was an utter piece of shit, but it’s all that Lance could somewhat afford. He cursed under his breath and kicked the stupid thing.

“I’ll fix that up for up for you, if you’d help me,” an unfamiliar voice called from behind, startling Lance, who slowly turned around to face the stranger. 

The man had a small but lean physique, and was a bit short. However, this didn’t offset that he seemed very, very strong, and didn’t change the fact that he quite obviously had several knives attached to his belt. Though it was against common sense, the stranger’s criminal-looking appearance was kind’ve attractive, and Lance couldn’t help but to notice the mysterious purple color that his eyes were. He wasn’t too fond of this guy’s haircut, though. It was a shame that his thick, inky-black hair had to have been styled into an extremely ugly mullet. 

“And what would that be? I can get her running in no time, and I, Lance Charles McClain, have no reason to help you, dirty grifter,” Lance replied, stupidly giving away his full name while calling the stranger the slang word for ‘conman.’ The statement (which was a lie; he had no idea how to fix his bike) was a taunt, though he had a playful smirk playing at his lips, along with a flirtatious look in his eye. The stranger seemed to have no reaction, and his facial expression was impossible to read. Clearly, this guy was guarded, and Lance was oddly tempted to prod for more information. 

“All I need is a ride to Dallas, where the coppers won’t follow me,” the boy replied, still not showing any readable sign. Lance couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow at his mention of the police, but didn’t comment. He knew that it was probably a sign he should turn away, but his curiosity overtook the urge for safety. Lance was looking for an adventure, and maybe this stranger was just what he needed. Besides, he always tended to have a thing for bad boys and girls. 

“Fine, I’ll be your driver, but-” Lance paused, playfully raising his finger to point at the stranger. “You have to buy me a drink. And tell me your name,” he added, a slight smirk showing on his face. The stranger just studied him for a moment, before kneeling down to look at the bike’s engine.

“I’m Keith.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I’m Griffin! I’m kinda new to fanfic writing, so uh don’t feel bad calling out any grammar mistakes ! Also, if you want to chat, just shoot a dm to my instagram @ hollywoodinfections


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